41.9 mi / 11.9 mph / 659 ft. climbing
Home: Bass River State Forest

I felt bad for our motel owner that, with our bikes inside our room, his parking lot remained completely empty. So we couldn’t help advertise the fact that his motel was actually open. Nonetheless, by morning a car in the lot showed that one other person had taken pity, making two of the rooms occupied for the night. The streets of Seaside Heights were similarly-vacant, giving a bit of a post-apocalyptic vibe to the town.

The decimation of humanity worked to our advantage when we had to cross the mile-long bridge inland to Toms River. The transportation department’s website says westbound cyclists are required to walk their bikes on the narrow sidewalk (and eastbound cycling isn’t allowed at all), but oddly there is a sign saying “Be Alert For Bicycles on Bridge”. So with two other lanes available for the few cars to use to go around us, we rode straight over without any issues.

We were able to do several miles on the Barnegat Branch Trail, something that didn’t even exist when Dennis and I rode here in 2010. It roughly parallels NJ-9, and while it was pretty and peaceful riding through the woods, its slightly-slower stone dust surface and slightly-annoying road crossings were enough to make us favor the wide smooth shoulder of NJ-9 for a period when the two ran right next to each other. Someone in a passing pickup disagreed with that choice, yelling “get on the rail trail!!” Credit to him for both knowing what a “rail trail” is, and for enunciating well enough for both of us to understand him (a rarity for passing assholes), but no credit for failing to notice that we were causing zero problems for anyone while riding in the 8-foot-wide shoulder. His fellow Jerseyites quickly stepped in to make up for his ignorance, because in the next 30 minutes (in a section where the trail had ended and the highway was our only option), we got three encouraging honks and one excited yell from a cyclist.

When we were finishing lunch, Rett mentioned that she had a taste for a piece of chocolate or something. Then over the next several miles, I needed to repeatedly pause my pedaling to keep from running up her rear tire. That hasn’t happened in weeks, which was an indication that her energy was low. So then when an ice cream stand advertising pumpkin ice cream appeared out of the blue fall skies, it couldn’t have been a more-perfect bike-touring stop. But after we got our gloves and helmets off, we saw it was actually closed (contrary to their sign), because their machine was being worked on. Dammit! What a cruel bait-and-switch! Rett resolved to just press on the next 5 miles to the grocery store, but apparently the break itself did her well since I no longer needed to stop pedaling.

Even with the temporary slowdown we made it to camp before 3pm. Our first visit to a New Jersey State Park was a good welcome. They do have the increasingly-common 2-day minimum-reservation requirement that really throws a fork into the works of bike touring, but at least the booking system showing real-time availability can keep it a viable option if you’re lucky enough to be like us and ride during a non-sold-out season. And a big shady site, and paper towels in the bathroom (!!!; lately campground bathrooms have had no hand-drying option), for only $30 (just $5 more than residents pay!) feels like a steal after Massachusetts’s $60-70 sites.